Experiments
by Books to the Ceiling
Summary: A diary entry about how Luna's mother died.


Experiments

Experiments

Experiments

Summary: A diary entry about how Luna's mother died.

Disclaimer: I only own the Reslering Funck.

Dear Diary,

It's August 2nd , the anniversary of my mother's death. She always experimented with everything, although she experimented the most with was spells. Nowadays most spells you hear about are terrible ones used mainly for mass destruction or pain. Not my mother, no, she experimented with spells about healing or helping. She even made a spell that would bring natural light on a cloudy day. She always felt so sorry for the plants when they didn't have light. She helped Daddy find out what sort of food different creatures liked. We had almost found out the favorite food of Crumple-horned Snorcacks when she had the most brilliant idea. At least we _thought_ it was brilliant she most of all. The reason she was so interested in helping and healing was because of her name, Renee, which meant "rebirth". She was always so compassionate. She wanted to create a spell that would bring back the deceased. I know people have said that it is impossible. She had different beliefs though and that is one of the things that everybody loved about her. It was one of the things that made her special. That gave her the sparkles in her eyes.

She thought, no, knew that when people died it meant that their life had gone away. Everybody knows that. When killed using the Avada Kedavra curse their lives on earth were taken away from them unfairly. They hadn't gotten the chance to live their lives fully. If the lives hadn't been lived fully then where did they go? She didn't know where, although she had some suspicions. What she wanted was to call them back to the body. She wanted to help people live their lives fully; she wanted to revive these people. My mother wanted to give them a new life, give them a rebirth. She spent all of her time working on her project. It wasn't like other projects where she still got up worked and played. She didn't eat dinner with us anymore and she didn't play games with me. When I wanted to go down to the pond and pick some plimpies, she was always far too engrossed in her work. We didn't play hide and go seek, we didn't spend time talking about what the Crumple-Horned Snorcacks would like to eat or the best ways to get rid of Billywigs. We didn't spend time making potions and mixtures to make plants grow faster. She didn't tell me anymore stories about Hogwarts and she didn't tell me about what a wonderful time I would have. I was left to come up with what sorts of creatures in the world there might be on my own. I recorded them in the front of this journal to tell her about later. This journal became my friend. Of course I had my father, but he was always working on his magazine, "The Quibbler" and now he had cooking also, since my mother was always busy. Sometimes I would help him with the illustrations and order of the magazine, but I didn't get much joy out of it until it was published. You could tell my father was worried. He had creases in his forehead and his two brows had become one. Even with his eyes you could tell; by the way that they kept glancing up at the room where my mother was. You could tell that he wanted her to come out. She was in their for at least a month. The most we saw of her during her time in seclusion was when she would rush out of her room to look something up, or sometimes climb up in a tree to think.

The day it happened I was upstairs in my room and I was drawing. I had drawn Billywigs and Crumple-horned Snorcacks and I was in the middle of drawing some of my own creatures, a small blackbird with the claws of a dragon. It had a sense for when someone was in danger. My creation would be called a Reslering Funck. Then there was the sound of an explosion. It shook the house. I heard my father yelling a fearsome thing. He was yelling the one thing that scared me the most.

"Renee!"

I knew that it had been her room that had made the explosion and from what I could tell it was worse than usual. I dropped my picture of the Reslering Funck and ran downstairs to see what had happened. I went to where my father was digging through bunches of rubble and saw that my mother's workroom had exploded. Then I saw a hand on the opposite side of the pile than my father and jumped over to it. He followed me and within minutes we had her out.

"What happened?" I asked her or my father, who ever would know. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow, but she answered me.

"I don't know sweetheart," she breathed. "It could be that it took too much power, power that I didn't have. Or it could have been that a person soul does go somewhere and that somewhere is inside another person. Maybe they live again in a different body. Maybe I took away the soul in my body. Whatever happened though, you know I won't be gone forever. Whether I'm floating around the earth watching you, or whether I'm in another body, you'll find me, even if you don't know it." Then she stopped breathing altogether. Her body became limp. My father was still clutching her ice cold body in his wrinkled fingers.

I remember sitting there for who knows how long, it could have been just a few minutes or several hours. I lost all sense of time. All I know is that I sat there while my father yelled my mother's name over and over, for what felt like eternity. St. Mungo's was called and she was declared dead. It made sense, she had just proved you can't bring back the dead. Her last words to me still run through my head every night. And I'll always be looking for her. Whenever I meet a new person, and whenever I hear a whisper on the wind. Both my parents are extraordinary people. Both tried and still try to help the world. Whether it be with sacrificing their life or jus offering their knowledge. I recognize and appreciate that more now, knowing that my father could also be gone with a single mistake. We never had her room rebuilt. It would have had too many memories and wouldn't have been used. I convinced Daddy to have the door rebuilt as a monument to her. I miss her everyday, but it helps knowing that she's out there somewhere.


End file.
